


Demon Lover

by wordwinx



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordwinx/pseuds/wordwinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam sort of expected not to remember anything the morning after Halloween until forgetting became too dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demon Lover

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Although there is no graphic violence in this story, there is blood since Adam is always a vampire for Halloween.
> 
> ALSO: This is a story from my LiveJournal archives. I do not write Adommy fic anymore.

Adam could make out the elusive features of a face, albeit strobe lit behind carnival glass. The clownish mouth, red and grimacing was familiar but freakish. Adam felt attracted and repulsed at the same time. He couldn’t look away. A series of lip shapes from pout to smile to smooch repeated in some kind of flirty loop on film. He knew who it was before Tommy turned away. No, don’t go! Come back. Adam pursued Tommy through a maze of hallways and stairs. He was always behind just missing him around a corner or one flight down. The search was exhausting, and Adam paused for breath in front of a door. The door opened. Tommy reached out and pulled Adam inside. The lipstick smeared grotesquely across Adam’s cheek as Tommy tongued a path to Adam’s mouth. Adam got lost in the kiss, his tongue obscenely long filled Tommy up and slipped down his throat. Tommy seemed to be drinking him. His lips worked Adam’s cheeks like a billows, impossible suction with each drag. Adam’s hand went for Tommy’s pants. He needed to touch, to free, to pull. Something was blocking his way. It was hard and smooth and strung, a guitar. Tommy was standing behind his bass. All at once, Adam realized they had wandered onto a stage. A blinding spotlight illuminated them. Adam shaded his eyes, but he couldn’t see the audience. He knew they were there by the deafening roar and encouraging chants. Isolated voices rose above the din demanding Adam do filthy, degenerate things to Tommy. No, no, no. Adam turned his back to them. A disco ball spun overhead casting delightful confetti shadows across the room. The roars of the crowd became the drone of a bass booming in a dance club. Adam moved to the relentless beat of a drum machine. He felt the rhythm in his chest and a pressure against his back. Tommy again had molded his body to Adam’s. They swayed as one from shoulder to hip. The grind felt so good. He wanted to hold him. He had to hold him. Adam was gripping his microphone. There was no place to put it down. Tommy reached for it. He wanted to sing? Tommy put the mike close to his red, red lips and licked it, but Adam felt the wetness. Tommy let the mike rest on his tongue then took it fully into his mouth. Oh, my God, it wasn’t his mike anymore. Adam’s body quaked, and he called out Tommy’s name. It wasn't a mike, then it wasn't a mouth. Oh, God, so good. Adam plunged deeper and deeper still losing himself in Tommy's body. His hips had a mind of their own. Adam was swirling and twirling down a funnel of pressure and urge. More, more, more. It wasn't enough. They were two . . . make us one. Adam bent double an impossible flex, and kiss. Not enough. And suck, not enough. The flesh beneath Adam's mouth gave way, punk . . . flow . . . mmmmm mine.

When Adam awoke, he felt a dull buzzing sensation somewhere beyond the confines of his skull.   
He felt cocooned and realized the sheet was loosely pulled over his head. He peered over the horizon of bunched covers and discovered a tangle of blonde hair spilling across a pillow case completely concealing the facial features to whom it belonged. Adam blinked away the fog. His memory came back in flickers. Tommy. Warm, soft, wet . . . mmmmm, yes, Tommy. How did that happen? Adam’s body stirred, and he was aware immediately of his nakedness. He stretched out from under the sheet, arms, face, and feet exposed to the chilly room. It semi-revived him. He looked over at Tommy’s fluffy head and debated whether to wake him. No, not yet. Adam rolled out of bed and wandered into the bathroom to relieve himself. He shivered above the icy tile and yawned. Jesus, what was that terrible taste. Adam worked his tongue and smacked his lips testing his teeth. He must have had more to drink at the party than he thought. There was a tightness about his chin. Adam washed his hands and smoothed his stubbly jaw. What the hell was that anyway? Adam was encrusted. Something came off in flakes. His thoughts were spinning. Did he vomit? Adam hurriedly flipped on the light and even before his eyes could fully adjust to the brightness, he was horrified by what he saw in the mirror. He stifled a startled shout. His chin and neck were caked with rust. Adam turned on the faucet full blast and smeared water all over. The newly moistened flecks turned red and dripped alarmingly into the sink as if from a fresh wound. Blood. Lots of it. Without even grabbing a towel, Adam bolted into the bedroom and tore the tousled blankets away from Tommy’s body. This time the scream was unbridled. Blood! Too much. “Tommy! Oh my God, Tommy!” He pounced on the bed and shook Tommy’s shoulders. No response. Adam began to shudder but gathered enough sense to check for a pulse. Yes, pulse . . . yes, breath . . . but he was out, way out. Adam gathered up Tommy’s light body and carried him into the tub. He turned on the shower and got a cloth. “Tommy! Wake up!” Tommy grunted under the rain of water. “Come on, Tommy.” Adam tapped his cheeks roughly. His color was returning. Tommy began to wriggle luxuriously under the jet stream. Adam dabbed the soaking cloth onto Tommy’s irritated skin looking for a wound . . . something. When Adam was sure Tommy was recovering, he wondered guiltily if he had been somehow crazily rough in his lovemaking, but there was no sign of that kind of breakage. All the blood was across Tommy’s neck and chest. Whoa . . . wait a minute. Adam’s arms dropped to his sides as his spine turned to water. He swallowed hard and sank unhinged onto the floor. Flashback . . . the mirror, blood crusted chin. Flashback . . . the bed, fierce, incredible fucking. Flashback . . . mirror, costume check and toothy snarl. Adam’s inner voice spoke, “I was a vampire.” Then, his consciousness tried to talk sense, “You were dressed LIKE a vampire. It was Halloween, Adam. Get a grip!” Adam stepped away from the tub and shook his head. He must have tripped out on some bad shit last night. Gliding backwards, he almost fell into the hamper. He found a pair of pajama pants on the floor and put them on. Adam often carelessly missed his aim with the laundry, both dirty and clean intermingled. This time he spoke aloud. “Get a grip, Adam.” He went back to Tommy and continued to clean him, then finished the task of scrubbing himself. It took three cloths. Adam’s mind was wandering trying to solidify some sequence of events. All he had were vignettes of smiles, the clinking of glasses and raucous laughter, that acrid incense from high end weed, and an occasional grope with the friend of a friend. But, where had Tommy been? How did he end up in Adam’s bed? That awful metallic taste returned and Adam swallowed hard. He was afraid what he might throw up. Minutes passed. By the time Tommy came around, the last traces of pink water slipped down the drain. “Tommy!” Tommy bolted upright, slipped, and caught himself on the edge of the tub. He inhaled sharply. “What the fuck? Where . . . ?” Ever so slowly then he noticed Adam standing there and identified the tub. “How did I get in here?” 

Adam was strangely calm. “Good morning.” It was morning, still. Adam walked over to the toilet where the sun winked through the blinds. He actually hesitated a moment as he took the cord in his fingers and snapped them open. Light flooded the room. Adam winced from the brightness and scolded himself for thinking a split second that he might burst into flames. Tommy scrambled for the shower curtain to block the rays.

“Shit, Adam! Close the damn window. Are you trying to kill me?” Adam bristled. Maybe. God, what happened?

“You were passed out. Scared the shit outta me.” Adam heard his own disassociated voice. He stomped to the sink and swigged mouthwash hoping to get rid of that taste.

Fully awake now, Tommy felt vulnerable and pulled up his knees. He didn’t know what to make of this awkward situation, so he decided to apologize. “I’m sorry, Adam. Sorry.” Adam felt a creepy guilt for having to cover this up. The covers, dammit! He still had to fix the bed.

“Forget about it. Just take a shower, will you?” I’m going to go make some coffee. Tommy needed more information. He remembered making out with somebody. Adam? Did they . . . do it? Adam seemed upset, but Tommy didn’t get a chance to ask a question before he was alone. Adam worked swiftly stripping the entire bed with one solitary resolve, if there’s no evidence, it didn’t happen. He rolled the ruined sheets into a knot and stuffed them into the farthest corner of the closet buying time for disposal later. He heard the water go off. That had to be the shortest shower in the history of plumbing!

Tommy called out, “Adam?” Adam crossed the room in three long steps. He wasn’t ready. The door came open, and Tommy was there scrubbed and dripping. God, the torment! What kind of an animal gets turned on while covering a crime scene? Tommy’s eyes were squinted. “I know what you did.” The accusation came gritty and forced. Adam braced himself for an attack. Tommy tried to push passed him, but Adam had a chiseled arm firmly propped against the door jamb blocking him in. 

Stay cool, Adam. “What are you talking about?”

“Last night.” Tommy’s hands were on his hips now, such a comical stance when one is buck naked. Adam clenched his teeth so not to smile. None of this was funny. He wondered when he had become such a psycho. It was hopeless. All of a sudden the whole situation seemed hysterical. Adam smirked, and Tommy’s features softened. He shoved Adam half-heartedly in the chest. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy, you just look so cute. Really, what are you talking about?” Adam’s apprehension returned, but maybe it wasn’t what he thought. The further he got away from that glaring image of himself in the mirror, the easier it was to believe something perhaps odd had happened but not something monstrous. The light of day and a dripping wet blonde had helped significantly in Adam’s exercise of denial.

“You slipped me a mickey, didn’t you?” 

Adam immediately sobered in protest. “No I didn’t.” Adam had never drugged anyone for sex EVER in his life. With a long line of partners practically tripping over each other to sleep with him, why would he?

“Then how come I can’t remember anything?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t remember either. I swear, Tommy. I think we drank too much, but I don’t know what happened.” The truth felt good. “Do you believe me?” Adam’s eyes were soft and half closed. His pouty lips begged for trust.

Suddenly Tommy leaned forward and took Adam into his arms. Adam wasn’t expecting that, and he couldn’t resist him. Tommy turned his face upward, and their mouths met. Tommy’s naked body pressed into Adam’s. His loose pants became full and active. It was impossible not to move. Adam sunk into delirium. He actually considered that he might be dreaming the whole thing. The edges of his vision were so fuzzy he floated in a semi-conscious state unaware of any gravity in the room. He couldn’t shake that lingering intoxication. Adam stopped caring if it was a hangover or withdrawal. His present reality was consumed by Tommy. Since he could no longer trust his sight, Adam succumbed to his other senses. Tommy was rough and smooth all fingertips and shoulder blades, a tickle of hair, the pressure of flesh a sculpture of angles and curves to knead and caress. Adam had handfuls and armloads of Tommy. Wet, suckling moans gave voice to their kisses. Each squeeze and embrace was punctuated by a rush of hitched breath, the whispered friction of skin on skin, or the pop of objection from an over-stressed joint. Adam was living in the music of Tommy’s body. Tommy’s essence had an aura of soap in contrast to the more organic aroma of Adam unshowered. His scent was an exotic market of everything savory, sharp, and spiced. Adam buried his face into Tommy’s neck and breathed deeply through his mouth. In spite of Tommy’s wriggling, Adam began to savor that spot obsessively. His grip on Tommy’s arms grew tighter, vice-like. His tongue lapped at Tommy’s earlobe and filled the depth of his clavicle. They bumped into the bed. Adam hadn’t wanted Tommy to see it suspiciously stripped, but it was too late. He looked away as Tommy took notice. 

Tommy drew his own conclusions. “You had me, didn’t you?” 

“Yes.”

“I let you . . . willingly.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

Tommy whispered in Adam’s ear, “I want to remember.” Adam let out a long tremulous sigh. “Make me remember.” He didn’t need any further motivation. Adam pushed Tommy onto the bare mattress and lay fully atop him not sparing one ounce of his entire weight. Almost by instinct, Tommy’s knees splayed wide as his hips made room to share space. Tommy nuzzled Adam’s chest, and Adam found himself once again drawn impulsively to that neck. The flat of his tongue tugged a resistant path across the stubble on Tommy’s jaw. His focus at once was keenly acute. Adam’s universe was the heat of Tommy’s skin, the squish and hum of his pulse just under the surface. Adam growled helplessly entranced. Tommy turned his head far to the side. From this angle, his throat was fully exposed. For no particular reason whatsoever, he felt the vaguest hint of déjà vu, and Adam opened his eyes. He was instantly paralyzed by what he saw, a deep bespeckled raspberry bruise under Tommy’s left ear with two distinct wounds not two inches apart, hours old and scabbed. Adam pushed himself off Tommy and stood up, his mouth agape in shock. Tommy rose up searching Adam’s face for a clue. “What’s the matter, baby? It’s okay. I want this. Come here.” Adam’s cock was a heavy, engorged. Tommy sat up and pulled Adam back to the edge of the bed. He tugged the waistband of Adam’s pants out and down exposing his full erection. Adam’s head fell backwards. His jaw went slack. He laced his fingers into Tommy’s silky bangs and thrust. It triggered another flashback so powerful, Adam remembered a nightmare. It was a nightmare, not real. Not real. Oh, God. He held Tommy’s head gently at first then not. Adam’s fingertips grazed that column of neck, and something within Adam surrendered. His mind wailed, TAKE! STRIKE! BITE! . . . DRINK! He lifted Tommy and tossed him like a ragdoll. Tommy gasped and tried to resume balance. The awkwardly taut ticking of the naked mattress offered him no stronghold. Tommy’s eyes wide and worried stopped Adam in place. Tommy was confused.

“What is it? What did I do?” All Adam could do was shake his head in disbelief. His body ached all over as his muscles convulsed. Every fiber in his being was taxed to the maximum resisting the impulse to pounce. He mumbled something incoherent. Tommy tried to reach up, but Adam stepped back. This time his voice was thick and raw, bestial.

“I said, run . . . Tommy, please . . . RUN!”

Tommy didn’t believe his ears. He stood there shaking trying to cover himself. “No!”

The look on Adam’s face changed Tommy’s mind once and for all. His pupils were blown. The brows all at once haggard and cross. Adam’s lips peeled back as his teeth chattered violently. Adam unclenched his fists as he felt for the fortification of the wall. Tommy lunged for his clothes in the chair as Adam slipped behind the door and shut himself up in the bathroom.

“Fuck you, Adam!” Tommy was choking back tears as he clumsily dressed. “I don’t get you!” he shouted at the door. “I don’t even know . . . what . . .” Tommy left that statement and his buttons unfinished. He struggled with his boots. “Well, fuck! Just never fuckin’ mind! That’s what! Not even gonna call me a cab, are you? Asshole!”

Adam crouched on the floor trembling and clung to his knees murmuring over and over “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” mantra-style as if he could undo the damage with the right amount of remorse. Adam heard the door slam and blinked hard. He was scared. Only two things in this world frightened Adam. One, losing his friends. And two, losing his mind. At this point the odds were not in his favor. “Shit.” Adam pulled himself off the floor. Now that Tommy was safely gone, that mind numbing desire abated. He could almost think. A shower might give him some clarity. Adam welcomed the hot torrent of water. The steam opened his lungs, deep cleansing breaths. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw so much blood. Where did it come from? What on earth did he take that made him feel he was losing control? He wasn’t ever violent unless it was self-defense. Was it an animal’s bite? A ritual? Adam knew some self-proclaimed freaks, and he loved them, but really, what were they into? Under the influence of God knows what, could he have . . . ? None of the options brought Adam any peace. At least he hadn’t awakened outdoors like the past couple of annual bashes. He was grateful for a place to stay the last few days. Ferras had an acquaintance who was away on a lengthy vacation and eager to help out a friend. A friend, friend, friend. Brad! Adam had to talk to Brad. He would remember what happened last night. Brad would be able to put the puzzle together. Thank God! Finally, a direction. When he got out of the shower, he texted Brad a.k.a. Cheeks he was coming over. He left a voicemail for Lane to go buy a set of king-sized sheets, Egyptian cotton, pure white, expensive. He considered trying to call Tommy, but he would only confuse things further without knowing how to answer the inevitable question, “Adam what the fuck is the matter with you?” Perhaps Cheeks would help him with that.

Adam dressed quickly in his typical incognito garb: jeans, a t-shirt, shades, and a hat. He left the house with only his phone and his keys. It bothered him that the light seemed too bright, that he felt like he should be sleeping, that he wasn’t even the slightest bit hungry. Mind games. It had to be. He took some bad shit. That had to be it. In the rear view mirror, the sunlight glinted off Adam’s blue-black hair. His eyes were too clear for a hangover. His lips, unglossed were a radiant rose. His skin reflective, almost translucent. Was that really Adam? He reminded himself for the umpteenth time to get a grip. Just drive.

The bass boom from the stereo system in Brad’s apartment absorbed Adam’s insistent rapping. He finally took out his phone and clicked on contacts with a black lacquered nail. “This is fucking ridiculous!” He knew that Brad would have his phone on his body, on vibrate. It rang twice. “Where do you THINK I am? I’m right outside the fucking door. Will you let me in for Christ’s sake?”

The door unlatched and flew wide. Brad’s exaggerated smile was replaced by an even more dramatic frown. “Jesus fucking Christ, Addy, you look like the living dead.”

“Thanks. It’s good to see you too.” Adam pushed passed him.

“What happened?”

“We’ve got to talk.”

“Like shoot-the-breeze talk or heart to heart?”

“Just one on one, Cheeks. What difference does it make? Do I need a fucking appointment?”

At that moment the stereo volume subsided from way across the room. Cheeks had company. “Hey, Adam.” It was Cassidy, a shared interest between exes. He emerged from the direction of the kitchen in jeans and a tank, achingly beautiful as always.

“Hi, Cassidy.” Adam sighed in disappointment. He reluctantly scratched the back of his head. He wasn’t counting on company. He wouldn’t have come if he’d known Cheeks was . . . entertaining. He lashed out. “So, catch me up. Since when are you two fucking again?”

Cheeks’ eyebrows raised in challenge, “Since whenever we fucking want to. Look, Adam, you asked to come over, and I have never once, not ever, told you no. You sounded like . . . batshit crazy when you called. So, you’re here now . . . what is it? Without the lecture, please.”

Cassidy took his hands out of his pockets and motioned toward the door. “I should probably go. You two really need to talk, so . . .”

“Wait. Don’t go. I’m sorry. You might be able to help me, too, Cass. I need you both.” Cassidy and Cheeks made eye contact, a silent pact for secrecy on a need to know basis that Adam was not privy to. They eased onto the couch. Adam perched on the edge of a chair unwilling to contradict his newly acquired instinct toward fight or flight. He took a deep breath and began. “It’s about the party.”

Cheeks cast Cassidy a sidelong look. “Your party was the shit, Adam.”

“Seriously, A, the best party all year.” Cassidy was emphatic and genuine.

“Well, that’s part of the problem. I don’t remember most of it.”

Cheeks smiled broadly as Cassidy dipped his head for a giggle. “Your honor, I rest my case.” He and Cassidy high-fived. Adam was mildly amused that his party had been such a success, but it didn’t eliminate his torment. The smile faded as he worked his mouth into a tight line. He actually looked like he was in physical pain. “Are you okay, Adam?”

“Yeah. I mean I don’t know. I . . . haven’t decided.” 

Cheeks offered to help. “Tell us what you do remember, and maybe we can fill in the gaps.”

“I remember meeting people as they arrived. Everyone looked so cool, so many friendly faces wishing me well. So much love. I remember the music and the booze. I was dancing. My wig was itchy.” Adam removed his hat and combed fingers through his hair contemplatively. “I kept looking for Tommy, but there were so many people. I was hosting, you know. Lee kept getting me to pose.”

Cassidy rolled his eyes. “Adam, really, you’re such a photo whore these days, it’s embarrassing.” Cheeks glared at him.

“Oh really?” Adam was in no mood for pretension. Cassidy was the last person in the room with any authority to condemn media prostitution.

“Shut up, Cassidy.” Cheeks saw nothing wrong with mugging for the cameras either.

“Okay, fine. I’m just sayin.” Cassidy studied his manicure. “Why didn’t you ask Tommy what happened? You must have found him. He was there with you at the end.”

Adam looked down at his hands in his lap like he didn’t know what they were used for anymore. “I can’t talk to Tommy right now. I think I hurt him.” He looked pleadingly into the eyes of his closest friends. “It’s bad . . . really bad. We argued or something and then we ended up back at the house. It’s so weird, though. I haven’t been myself since.” 

“Oh.” There was a long speculative pause from Cheeks who wondered how much he should divulge. “Well, you know, it isn’t like this is anything new, Adam.”

“What do you mean?” Both of them were being more secretive than Adam wanted, but he guessed it had something to do with their current sleeping arrangements.

“He’s right. You’re always spaced out on Halloween. It’s cool. It’s kind of part of your mystique.” Cassidy flicked his wrist to embellish his point.

Adam dismissed his rationale. “Nah. No. It’s more than that. Listen. You guys are going to think I’m even weirder than usual, but I think all this has something to do with Burning Man.” 

Cheeks and Cassidy both shot a glance at one another as if to say, now what? Cheeks insinuated with a slight nod in Adam’s direction that they should just play along for now.

“Do you guys remember that dude with the Voodoo tent?” Adam was hopeful.

Cheeks seemed vague. “Wasn’t his name Chauncey?” 

“Ye-ye-yeah, but everybody called him the Shaman.” Adam was right about Cheeks being able to help.

“Well, he did have a variety of . . . medicinal flora and fungi.”

Cassidy chimed in. “He also read star charts and tarot cards. He could do your totem pole.”

“Totem animal, you mean.” Cheeks was all about details.

“Huh?”

“Your spirit guide, Cass. It’s an animal not a pole, for Christ’s sake.”

“Well, they stack em high. I know that.” Cassidy’s references were often unique to him alone.

Adam was losing patience. “Guys, focus. Come on. It was toward the end of the festival, and we were kind of sad but kind of bored by then too.” They all nodded. “And we went to see the Shaman for some . . . recreational herbs.” Adam’s eyes widened and his voice lilted up to emphasize the euphemism.

“That’s right, the epiphany!” Cheeks remembered it well.

Cassidy guffawed, “Oh god, not the forbidden topic!”

Cheeks celebrated it. “The unmentionable has surfaced. Adam’s American Idol don’t dream it, BE it moment in time!” They both burst into laughter.

Adam could take the ribbing. “Okay, okay, I deserved that. But you guys weren’t there. You don’t know how profound it was.”

“Oh, hold up, now. Wait just one minute. I was there, Adam. You got so fucking sick, we almost hauled your ass into the Jeep for a hospital.”

“Really? I don’t remember that.” Cassidy wasn’t as close to Adam then.

“It’s true. I’ve never seen anybody vomit that hard. He broke little capillaries in his face. Looked like somebody beat him up.”

Cassidy gasped. “His totem pole!”

“What?” Adam had no idea how these two ever managed to hold a complete conversation.

“Listen it makes total sense. You got beat by your totem pole, er animal, I mean. Chauncey said that when you take particular hallucinogens, you end up facing your inner demons. You confront your . . . ” Cheeks recalled the same claim and finished Cassidy’s sentence.

“. . . your spiritual guide. Oh my fuck, Adam! That’s it.”

“What? What does that have to do with me going nuts at Halloween?”

“On Halloween, spirits long dead roam the Earth once again. You just got a visit from the spirit world.” Cheeks was completely satisfied with that explanation.

Cassidy also appreciated the paranormal. “Oooo that gives me shivers like you’ve been possessed or something. Fuck me.” 

“You guys. I’m really worried. It keeps getting worse every year. Your spirit guide is supposed to protect you, not possess you.”

Cheeks was sincerely concerned. “Adam, what else happened, with Chauncey, I mean?” 

“I haven’t told this to anyone. Not ever.” Cheeks and Cassidy leaned in. Adam spread his fingers wide across his knees. “When I left the Shaman, I was seriously tripping, and then I got sick later. But before I took that shit, he asked me some really wild questions, and he kept murmuring these spells and throwing bones and shit. I thought it was all just part of the show.”

Cheeks shook his head. “He didn’t do that for me.” Cassidy had no recollection either.

“I told him I was trying to figure out who I was so I could start living my dream. He gave me this tea of some kind. He told me to ask the universe to bring forth my true self then drink it down.”

“You made a wish on a cup of tea?” Cheeks nudged Cassidy to be quiet.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but it was the tea that made me sick, kind of like a purging.” Adam squinted and licked his lips. “And after that, all my doubts were gone.” Adam shrugged. “I knew I was destined to be an entertainer.”

“Aw, that’s really amazing, honey. I didn’t know all that.” Cheeks had never forgotten why he fell in love with Adam in the first place.

“That isn’t the end of it, though. This is the really fucked up part. When I beckoned my true self, I think I invited . . . another me.” Adam paused for a second to clarify. “I think there’s another side of the real me, a darker side.”

“Halloween Adam.” Cassidy said it to Cheeks directly.

“Yeah.” Adam noticed the boys weren’t laughing anymore. “You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Cheeks was all business now. “You said it keeps getting worse. Do you remember what happened the first Halloween after Burning Man?”

“I got drunk at a party and ended up on the roof of my apartment building. I had some really terrible nightmares. When I woke up, I was still there. I found this really funky poem about ghosts and obsession. I must have written it in a stupor because I don’t remember any of it. It’s my handwriting though.”

“No one was with you?”

“No.”

Cassidy encouraged Adam to go on. He was more interested in what occurred when he was a part of the picture. “Anything weird happen last year?”

“I got a headache. Ferras offered to take me home. It must have been after two. He dropped me off at a friend’s place.”

“Oh, a friend.” Cheeks smirked at Cassidy.

“Yeah, really a friend, apparently.” Cassidy denied that it was him.

“I didn’t go in, though. I don’t know what happened. I woke up on the beach.”

“So this time . . . last night . . . you were with Tommy.”

“Yes.” Adam’s anxiety was returning. He didn’t know if he would be able to tell them the details. The images that came flickering back were ragged and stark. The bed and the blood . . . it might be too much for even them.

“We saw you leave with him. Things didn’t get weird until the after party started.” Cheeks made finger quotes around the words “after party” insinuating that time in the evening when family members and marginal suits had already bid good evening leaving the night folk to pair up and mingle. “So, it was just us diehards by then.” Cheeks paused and looked at Cassidy again.

“Tell me everything.” Adam didn’t want any more secrets even if it was painful.

In the narrative that Cheeks provided, Adam was the star both loved and lovely. They were all thoroughly captivated by him. Perhaps Adam hadn’t taken proper time to pay attention to Tommy. He didn’t know just how rejected Tommy had felt. As Cheeks continued to describe what happened, Adam began to rub his forehead. How did he consistently mess up matters of the heart? Evidently Tommy drank too much, but who didn’t? As the evening wore on, Adam found Tommy on a couch making out with another man. Apparently, Adam came forward to claim ownership. Tommy resisted at first. He was hurt. Adam allowed him a drunken rant, but when enough was enough and Tommy was approaching spectacle, Adam intervened. Tommy got defiant and unintentionally hit Adam in an attempt to wave him away. The smack of flailing fingers against Adam’s mouth got the attention of even the deepest of gropers. Everybody saw. That had been the catalyst, the pain, the scene, and thus Adam’s transformation began.

“I don’t know how to describe it, Adam. You had this presence.” Cheeks consulted Cassidy for confirmation. “You’ve always been a pretty aggressive lover.” Cheeks treated those words tenderly so they wouldn’t sting entering Adam’s ears. “But, this was different.”

Adam needed specifics. “How did I handle it?” 

Cheeks just sighed so rarely at a loss for words and let Cassidy take over. He looked Adam directly in the face. Cassidy spoke in the deep baritone he usually reserved for singing. “It was the hottest thing, I’ve ever seen, Adam. Your eyes glazed over. You set your jaw. You grabbed Tommy by the throat and kissed him so hard he almost fell. You caught him at the waist and bent him backwards. He sort of held onto your arm like this.” Cassidy demonstrated an imaginary embrace. “Then he just sort of melted into your body. Your coat covered him. It was a fucking magic trick, an illusion. Tommy disappeared for a second like you absorbed him or something.” Cheeks was nodding emphatically since Adam seemed in doubt. 

“When you stood up, you took Tommy by the elbow and escorted him the fuck out. And that was that! You killed us dead, every last one of us.” The memory wasn’t complete, but at least it was a finished sequence, finally. Cheeks explained that they drove too fast for him to follow. He didn’t know the address and had to turn around. Adam could now fill in the rest himself. Once at the house, Tommy had rejected Adam’s apology. Adam couldn’t let him go away mad. Emotions erupted, and things got physical, very physical. Solitary images flickered to the surface, disjointed and bizarre, a collage of depravity. Furniture turned over. Tables were cleared. Clothes vulgarly twisted were rudely invaded . . . torn, indecent, and finally discarded. Fingers and tongues sought any orifice causing nearly contortionist arrangements of limbs until Adam claimed Tommy’s body completely. Then again . . . and again. At some point, Adam simply lost control of that inner beast, and took Tommy to a place just one step away from oblivion. Maybe it was a good thing Tommy couldn’t remember their first time. He’d probably never want to see Adam again. He had to set things right.

Adam stood up abruptly. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to go find Chauncey and see if I can reverse this thing. And, I’ve got to find Tommy and apologize. I hurt him.” Adam spoke haltingly. “I hurt him very badly.” If any of his nightmares were true, then God help him. Adam winced. The realization was excruciating. Adam whispered, “I think I bit him.”

Cheeks couldn’t let Adam suffer anymore. “Adam.”

“What is it?” Cheeks didn’t know what to say. There just wasn’t any right way to do this. Adam begged them both. “Please, this is my life here.”

Cassidy nodded that it was time. “Let’s show him.”

“Okay.” Cheeks found new confidence. “Adam we know.” Cassidy put his arm high over his head and lifted the hem of his tank top just to the edge of his ribs. Cheeks rather matter-of-factly dropped his pants and turned his knee out displaying his inner thigh. 

“What are you doing?” Adam was certain this wasn’t what it looked like.

“Look.” They both pointed at exposed areas of their bodies. Adam bent down to get a closer view. His hand went to his mouth. Oh no. Cassidy and Cheeks both had their own set of double puncture scars, pale and shiny almost ornamental. Adam couldn’t get his mind wrapped around it and collapsed into the chair.

“We messed up. It was our fault you went home with Tommy alone last night. That should never have happened. We lost you.” Adam put his head in his hands. Cheeks refastened his pants and knelt on the floor in order to peer up under Adam’s devastated head. “Listen. The Shaman told me to watch you before we ever left Burning Man. You really freaked him out! He rents a cabin on the beach not far from here. He’s a freakin tourist attraction with that palm reader thing going on. He gave us the shit that we slip you so you’ll black out. That’s why you can’t remember what happens on Halloween. Adam, I’m sorry, but this thing isn’t reversible.” Adam groaned. This wasn’t happening. “You didn’t know it, but you were never alone those times. Me, and Cass took turns the last two years. Last night was a mistake. You just can’t be alone with somebody, you know, sexually on Halloween.” Cheeks and Cassidy exchanged knowing glances. “We found out the hard way.”

All of a sudden Adam realized Tommy had been his prey. He absorbed this curse, slowly, painstakingly. It would have been impossible to believe if it weren’t for the fact that it was the one missing piece of the puzzle that fit perfectly into the rest of this miserable picture. He felt sorry for himself, but he was mostly concerned for Tommy. “You guys recovered, right?” 

“Yes, baby, we’re fine.” 

“So, Tommy will be okay then?”

“Tommy’s fine.” Cheeks squeezed Adam’s arm to comfort him. “Tommy, you can come out now.” Adam searched the room expectantly. Tommy entered via the kitchen very pale and sheepish. 

“Oh, Tommy! Have you been here all this time?” Tommy nodded and stepped closer. 

Cheeks got between them. “Wait a sec. Adam, are you all over it? I mean, this morning after shit is totally new.” Adam immediately checked himself for fog or urge. He looked into Tommy’s eyes, and all he saw was love.

“It’s gone. I’m cool. Are you okay, Tommy?” Cheeks let him go so he could walk into Adam’s open arms.

“Yeah, really, Adam. I’m okay. I’m starving though.”

Cassidy spoke up. “He’ll eat for days, trust me, lots of meat. He’ll be back to good in no time.” 

Adam held Tommy softly but firmly. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t worry. I understand everything now. When you kicked me out, I came straight over here hoping Cheeks would explain to me what’s up with you. The guys saw my bite and told me everything. You don’t have to apologize, Adam. I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m only sorry that I was such a douche at the party.”

This whole realization was very frustrating for Adam who thrived on honesty. “Why did you guys keep this from me?”

“To protect you. You’re so damn open about everything, we felt we should protect you from yourself. This, THIS story above all other stories cannot ever leak out.”

Adam searched Tommy’s face for reproach. “I’m a monster.” 

“No you’re not. Adam, think about it. Last night was probably the closest you’ve ever been to total submersion but even then, you didn’t go for the jugular. Not on me or on them. I think that means a lot. You’re wild, but you’re not a monster. Not really. The animal inside is still you. It’s taken three times now, but I think we’ve got an idea for next year.” Tommy was already a part of Adam’s future plans.

“Well, I can’t be a vampire anymore. That’s final.” Adam’s mind was made up.

“It won’t matter, Adam.” Cassidy was shaking his head. “I took your teeth at midnight. The costume didn’t do that.” He pointed at Tommy’s neck, and Adam shuddered.

Cassidy added an important point. “We’ve got to consider the fact that you’re under the spell longer now. Right?”

Tommy confirmed this as a testament to Adam’s unbelievable endurance. “That’s for sure.” Adam actually blushed. Evidently Tommy remembered more than he had let on. 

“I still say we could tie him up and risk it. It’s sexy!” Cassidy had his own fantasy.

“What?” Adam hoped they were kidding.

Cheeks protested. “No way. No sex whatsoever! He’s going to have to have a fucking chastity belt or something.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Guys, I’m right here. I’m not wearing that.”

“It’s just one night of the year party boy!” Cassidy loved to tease him.

“We’ll figure out something. All of us, together.” Cheeks pulled them into a circular hug. The four of them stood, linked elbow to elbow like blood brothers. “And then there were three.”

“And me.” 

“And Adam, of course, our beautiful demon lover.”


End file.
